No Deducing Allowed
by Overlord Rousdower
Summary: Lizzy has moved to London. We all know where... 221C. Completely oblivious to what she was walking into, she meets everybody's favorite Consulting Detective. Finding herself dragged into a wild world of mystery and mayhem, Lizzy never thought she would do anything as ridiculous as falling for the detective. And then there's the stalker... Pre Reichenbach Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Unfortunately.**

Glancing down at the newspaper clenched in her left hand, Lizzy couldn't help but admonish it, "You have been of absolutely _no_ help! All of these apartments, flats, _whatever_," Here she gestured to the flat rent section of the paper, "Are complete dumps! If this next one isn't any good…" she waved the index finger of her right hand threateningly at the innocent paper, "I will do terrible things to you!"

Huffing, she marched to the edge of the sidewalk and hailed a cab. At least… she tried to. It took at least ten minutes for one to finally pull over, and when it did, Lizzy's mood had considerably worsened.

Being a little absent minded, and still not quite used to the idea of cabs (even though she had used them most of the day) Lizzy gave only the name of the street she wished to go to.

"Baker Street, please," she grumbled, resigning herself to glaring out the window for the entire trip.

When the cab stopped, she got out and payed the fare. Glancing down at the paper and then looking to the house on her right, her mouth dropped open.

"289! You've got to be kidding me!"

She stood there for several minutes, staring at the door number before narrowing her eyes and spinning on her heel, beginning the sure-to-be ten minute walk down the sidewalk.

A quarter of the way there, she told a tree on passing, that the trip had better be worth it, and shortly after, a lamppost that her day couldn't get any worse.

About halfway there it started raining. Hard.

After a short one sided shouting match with the sky (this received many odd looks from various passerby) and an extra five minutes of walking, Lizzy found herself in front of a worn black door that had three brass numbers (and a letter) above a crooked brass knocker. Taking a breath to calm her temper and to prepare for the worst, she knocked.

The door was opened by a little old lady with quite possibly the kindest face Lizzy had ever seen.

"Yes, dear? Are you here to see Sherlock?" the woman asked with a voice to match her face.

"Uh… No? I don't know any Sherlock… I'm here about 221C?" Lizzy said, confused as to who this Sherlock person was.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, it's just, that boy has so many clients! You're soaking! Come in! I'll take you right down. I'm Mrs. Hudson, by the way. What's your name dear?" Mrs. Hudson chirped as she practically dragged Lizzy in and towards a set of stairs that lead down.

Not able to stop herself from smiling, despite her bad mood, Lizzy couldn't help but think she liked this place already. Despite this odd Sherlock. And his clients… she'd need to ask about that before she made any decisions… She sincerely hoped it wasn't a bad sort of client… because if it was… she most certainly wasn't staying.

Remembering that she had been asked a question, Lizzy quickly shook her head to rid herself of her slightly disturbing thought pattern. "Uh.. Lizzy. Lizzy Naevee."

"Oh, what a lovely name! You're American, aren't you?" Mrs. Hudson said as she led Lizzy to the door that could possibly belong to her new home. Lizzy nodded as Mrs. Hudson opened the door. Staring at the room before her, a large grin crossed Lizzy's face and she barely registered what Mrs. Hudson was saying.

"-just had it fixed up. It was in a _terrible_ state. Mildew and peeling wallpaper… eugh!" Mrs. Hudson shook her head disapprovingly.

Turning to the old woman, Lizzy bounced up and down a little and said, "I'll take it!"

"Oh… but.. don't you want to look around? You might not like the rest," Mrs. Hudson said nervously.

"Nope," Lizzy turned around, "It's perfect."

Mrs. Hudson beamed, "Oh, that's wonderful! It'll be so nice to have another girl in the house!"

"When can I move in?" Lizzy asked eagerly.

"Oh, whenever you want, dear. Oh..." Here, a worried look crossed the her new landlady's face. "I do hope the boys won't give you any trouble. Well… John wouldn't. But Sherlock…" Mrs. Hudson trailed off with a very troubled expression.

There was that Sherlock again! _What an odd name_, Lizzy pondered as to what kind of person would have that name. _He lives with this… John? Are they…? _Well. Whatever kind of people lived in the flat above her, she was not letting this deal go.

Mrs. Hudson scooched a little closer and lowered her voice to an almost whisper, "They keep insisting they're not… but I am positive that they're," She look around as if she expected the two in question to jump out from around a corner, "Together."

Lizzy started giggling. She was getting to like her landlady more and more.

Mrs. Hudson continued, "I _told_ them it was fine." She leaned in closer and her voice turned conspiratorial, "Mrs. Turner next door s'got married ones."

Lizzy started laughing hysterically and Mrs. Hudson joined in with her own titters.

"If it's all right with you, I'll start moving in tomorrow?" Lizzy beamed. She was curious to meet her two new neighbors.

But first, she had shopping to do.

Lots and lots of shopping.

**A/N: *shuffles* I really shouldn't be writing this... I have so many other things to be writing... but I can't really resist...**

**This does take place before Reichenbach, but after Baskerville.**

**Please review and tell me if I should continue? Was it any good? **

**Rousdower out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Is it weird that I laughed at my own chapter?**

**I hope you guys like this!**

**Disclaimer: I own... the plot, the character, and... *shifty eyes* the tape *sulks***

Lizzy gleefully shut the door as the last mover walked out of the room. Turning around, she grinned maniacally at all of the boxes scattered throughout her new flat. Plopping in front of the closest box, she began peeling the tape off. She got it halfway off before she fell asleep.

What woke her up, was a gunshot. With a yelp she jumped to her feet. A tug on her hand stopped her from getting to the door and she looked down at the tape that had somehow wrapped all the way around her hand. It took only a sharp tug for it to come free and another gunshot rang out, making her jump.

She flung open the door of her apartment… flat and flew up the stairs. She stopped in front of Mrs. Hudson's door, and another gunshot sounded out, accompanied by a voice yelling, "BORED!"

Creeping up towards the other apar- _flat, _she listened carefully. Realizing she didn't have anything to defend herself with, Lizzy paled slightly. Suddenly, she heard Mrs. Hudson voice;

"YOUNG MAN, YOU HAD BETTER STOP SHOOTING MY WALL THIS INSTANT! I don't _care _if you're bored! THIS IS COMING OUT OF YOUR RENT!"

The door opened and Mrs. Hudson came out in a flurry. She saw Lizzy and said, "Oh, Lizzy dear… I'm so sorry about him!" She shook her head. "That man…" Mrs. Hudson bustled into her flat, leaving a very confused Lizzy in her wake. Just as she closed the door, there was another gunshot and Lizzy heard Mrs. Hudson groan in annoyance behind her door.

Creeping closer to the now rather formidable 221B, Lizzy strained her ears even further to catch what was being said (if anything). A male voice (she didn't think it was the one who claimed to be 'bored') was saying, "We just got back from a case twenty minutes ago!"

A deep voice said in an almost whining tone, "I don't care John! I-" here, Lizzy supposed it was Sherlock, fired another shot, "Am-" And another, "BORED!" Two more. Summoning up her courage (her curiosity is what made it possible) Lizzy was raising her hand to knock when John spoke again, "That's it! I'm going out."

And before she knew it, she was face to face with a cuddly looking blond man, just a little shorter than she was.

They stood there for several minutes, just staring at each other, when the man managed to do what she was still trying desperately to.

"Uh… hi?"

Lizzy shook herself and managed a smile, "Hi…"

A few more moments of awkward silence passed when the man shifted a little and said, "Uh.. who are you? Exactly?"

The voice that had been complaining of boredom called out, "Don't be silly John, it's our new neighbor."

John's eyes widened and Lizzy peered over his shoulder, trying to see the other person. "New.. neighbor? I didn't know…"

Lizzy snapped out of her half haze and smiled a little, "That's because I just moved in… I'm Lizzy." She held out her hand, smile still there.

"Uh… John, John Watson." John shook her hand, and Lizzy's smile turned relieved. "I would offer you tea… but my flatmate will probably scare you away…"

"Oh… that's alright." Lizzy attempted to peer over his should again. "He sounds quite interesting. Sherlock, isn't it?"

"I find your accent annoying!"

"Shut up Sherlock!"

Lizzy tried not to laugh. They acted like an old married couple.

"Well… if you're sure.." John still looked doubtful.

Lizzy shrugged. "If you're not comfortable-"

"Oh for god's sake, make up your minds!"

John clenched his fists. Lizzy, feeling sympathetic towards the poor man, said, "Why don't you come down to my apartment?"

"Flat!"

"Shut up, Sherlock!" John yelled.

"Ahem… As I was saying, it's pretty messy, but I'm pretty sure I know where the teapot is."

"Kettle!"

"Shut UP, Sherlock!" John yelled again, returning his positively mortified gaze back to Lizzy ."Yeah… That's probably a better can meet him later." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. He suddenly stop and his forehead wrinkled in confusion, "Why do you have tape wrapped around you hand?"

Lizzy looked down at the tape and back up to John, blushing as she opened her mouth to answer, but Sherlock beat her to it;

"She was unpacking! Honestly John, I was under the impression you had some semblance of a brain!"

John's eyes widened in a look of rather comic fury and he turned around and bellowed, "I SAID SHUT UP!" He turned back to Lizzy, "I am sooo sorry…"

Lizzy giggled and backed away from the door to let John by as she unwrapped the tape from her hand. "It's alright."

As they walked down the stairs, John asked, "So, where are you from, exactly?"

"America. More specifically, Washington state."

"Wow, you came a long way. Why'd you decide to come here?"

By now they were in her living room, picking their way through her various boxes towards the kitchen. Lizzy shrugged, "I guess, I just wanted to see things, and this is kind of a good place to start?"

John nodded and almost ran into Lizzy when she stopped.

"I think the teap- _kettle_ is in this box…" She began rummaging through said box and John felt is temper go up a little.

"I really am sorry about my git of a flat mate… He has absolutely no social decorum whatsoever," John mumbled.

"Oh… that's quite alright- go ahead and sit down- One of my friends was a little like that, so it's nothing new, really."

John chuckled. "What little you heard him say, was probably a one on the scale of his rudeness."

Lizzy paused, "Oh dear…"

John continued chuckling, "It's worse when it gets above ten."

They were both laughing now. Lizzy finished making the tea and handed the cup to John. She thought she saw him wrinkle his nose a bit out of the corner of her eye, but decided she was mistaken.

After a few minutes of chatting, another gunshot rang out and they both jumped. John's head thudded onto the table and stayed there for a few seconds, before he got up and said, "Give me a few minutes, pleased."

"Um… ok?"

Lizzy heard the door to her flat close, and she hoped that their little domestic wouldn't last long. She yawned and stretched her arms up into the air (the nap next to the box hadn't really been very refreshing). She had had a tiring past few days, several hours had been spent getting new furniture, and arranging her few boxes of belongings to be moved here. Then she had had to get food, which had been a whole other ordeal.

Looking at her cup, she said morosely, "How long do you think it's going to take me to get all my things unpacked? I'm just so tired…"

At this moment, John walked back into the kitchen, looking pleased with himself.

"Is that a _gun_?"

John looked down at the weapon in his hands, "What? Oh.. oh.. yeah. Sorry. Had to get it away from the idiot before he broke something."

Lizzy giggled again.

"He's a bit like a five year old." John gestured to the apart- _flat_ above them. "And the gun is a bit like the ball said five-year-old isn't allowed to throw in the house."

Lizzy was doubled over in giggles by this point, and John soon joined in.

After a good half-hour of chatting, Lizzy and John were becoming fast friends. Lizzy had learned that John was a doctor, and that Sherlock was a consulting detective. Apparently, they solved cases together.

Noticing that Lizzy was looking a little tired, John said that he should probably go. She didn't protest much, and after exchanging goodbyes, she barely made it to her couch before she was asleep.

**A/N: I did not expect this kind of reception?**

**I thought people were gonna be... Oh... Sherlock/OC? Na...**

**O.o**

**Thank you to-**

**Sassiebone**

**CharatinaX**

**Wunderkind4006- A bit overboard, Wundy... Popcorn is a little much?**

**HappinessIsAWarmSociopath- Hi! *blushes* Ohhh.. thank you. I am really trying to make this a good story. I hope it lives up to your expectations! I need to check out your story... *is curious***

**ccgaylord**

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**and my 15 followers and 9 favoriters! **

**O.O FIFTEEN FOLLOWERS ALREADY?!**

***is nervous* **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer- Me no own and you now sue. Do da, do da, me no own and you no sue, oooohhh do da daaaaaay.**

***edges in***

***tosses chapter***

***runs for life***

Lizzy hefted the shopping bags over to one arm, nearly falling over in the process. Opening the door, she stepped into the hallway. Casting a glance up at 221B, she trudged down the stairs to her own ap- _flat._ Why can't she ever get that right? She dug through her pocket for the key, almost dropping the bags in the process.

"I'm starting to think you're full of trouble, not food," she muttered to the shopping bags. Looking up, she froze.

The door to her.. flat- yes! Victory! - was not closed.

She distinctly remembered shutting it. And locking it. And checking it twice. _And_ warning it, that if it opened while she was gone, it would die. "You're dead," she muttered to the door. Peering in the crack, she saw somebody was rifling through one of her as of yet unpacked boxes.

This person was very tall. A very tall man. A very tall, very threatening looking man.

Without taking her eyes off of the intruder, she slowly reached down and grabbed a can out of her bag. She honestly couldn't believe that he hadn't heard her yet. Maybe he thought she lived in a different apar- darn it all- _flat._ Or maybe he was deaf. That would be a definite plus. But highly unlikely.

As she pushed the door open, she didn't pause and think that it would be a better idea to go up to Mrs. Hudson's flat and call whatever their number for the police was. Instead, she crept across the floor and as she did so raised the can slightly.

Just before she reached Mr. Impertinent (his new name, since he had the cheek to break in to _her_ apartment. Well… news flash for him. She had a _can_), he turned around.

_Dang it. He couldn't have waited?_ she thought, irritated. In a few seconds she had taken in most of what he looked like. He was tall (that was already established), he had a mop of curly black hair, and very bright blue-ish, gray-ish eyes. Wait… why was he wearing a bathrobe?

He slowly looked from her, to the can, and back.

He proceeded to raise an eyebrow.

And then proceeded chuckle.

Lizzy felt herself grow indignant. "What are you laughing at?"

"You really think you can take down a male, twice your size, with a soup can?" He had a very deep, slightly familiar voice. Lizzy narrowed her eyes, "Come a little closer and maybe we'll find out," she growled. He ceased chuckling and turned back to the box he had been rummaging through.

"A fan of the classics I see?" he said casually, holding up a book.

Lizzy's eyes widened and she started spluttering. "Y-you.. what's wrong with you!? I come back and find some weirdo in a bathrobe rummaging through my stuff, and said weirdo laughs at me, and continues rummaging!"

"Dressing gown."

"Excuse me?" Lizzy, asked, thoroughly confused.

"It's a dressing gown. Not a _bathrobe_," he sneered.

Lizzy stayed very still, no movement whatsoever, excepting the slight twitching of her right eye. Then, realization chose that moment to dawn. She pointed her finger at him and started shaking it from side to side. He straightened up and stared at her as if she had grown a flower out of her ear.

"You," she chuckled sarcastically. "You're Sherlock aren't you?"

He was silent for a moment before he said, with no small amount of blandness, "Obviously." He turned to another box and said, "I would put away your food before your ice cream melts."

"Obvious- Hey! How did you know I bought ice cream?"

"I was looking through your freezer and noticed you were low. So, naturally, you have bought more." He ripped the tape off of the box, plopped himself on the ground, and began digging through it.

Lizzy felt herself start to get irritated. More so than she was five minutes ago. "May I ask- _Sherlock- why _you are digging through my things?"

"Bored," he drawled.

"B-bored. You were… bored. _Bored?!_" Lizzy choked out. "How did you even get in here?"

"Picked the lock."

"Oh… I'm going to…"

"Going to what? Kill me? Highly improbable, considering your only weapon at the moment is a can of clam chowder," he said, examining a picture from her graduation.

Lizzy felt her eye resume it's twitching. She leaned over and snatched the picture out of his hand.

"Out. Get _out!"_

Sherlock got up and walked towards the door. "I shall see you in about…" He took out his phone- "Ten minutes. And don't forget to put away your food." He poked the bags with his foot.

"Don't you dare come back down here!" she threatened.

"Oh, I won't. You'll invite me back," was Sherlock's breezy reply. And then the door clicked shut behind his back.

Lizzy growled and opened the door, after she was sure he was gone, picking up the bags. Stomping into the kitchen, she slammed the can of clam chowder onto the counter.

"A lot of help you were," she growled at the innocent can of soup.

She proceeded to cram the food into the fridge. She took the ice cream and a spoon out, and stomped into the living room.

She froze when she heard a horrible screeching noise, that could only belong to a violin. A horribly tortured violin. And instincts told her, that this sound was coming from Sherlock.

She sat on her couch, eating ice cream, and attempting to ignore the grating noise… but alas. It proved too irritating.

She oh-so-carefully set the ice cream onto the coffee table, and walked serenely over to the door. Opening it slowly, she took a deep breath;

"FINE. I GIVE UP!" She slammed the door and stomped back over to the couch. Mere seconds later, Sherlock was striding through the door, a self satisfied-smirk on his face. Totally ignoring her presence, he walked back over to the box he had been rummaging through and plopped himself back down.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, her voice dangerously calm.

"What I was doing-" Sherlock looked at his phone. "-Ten minutes ago."

Lizzy restrained a growl and shoved another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. Something told her she wouldn't be able to get him to stop.

After a few minutes, a cellphone rang. It was Sherlock's.

"This better be good."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. Who answered their phone like that? Duh… Apparently Sherlock did. That didn't surprise her.

"Excellent."

Sherlock shot up and strode out of the door.

Lizzy stared after him. She looked down at the ice cream. "What was that all about?"

She scowled petulantly.

"Not even a 'Thank You'. Not even a 'Bye'. I let him ruffle through my box out of the kindness of my heart."

She heard feet pounding down the stairs and the door out of the flat slam.

"What a jerk."

**A/N: *creeps in with shield***

**I'm sososososoosososososososososooooo *gasp* sososososoososossosooso sorry for taking so loooong.**

**But Lizzy met Sherlock sooooo… Heh. Maybe you won't kill me?**

**How was it? *leans forward in anticipation***

**Hmmm?**

**Thanks to-**

A Fan of Many Stuffs

Sassiebone- **Was it interesting enough? O.O**

**Serenity Angels**

**Wunderkind4006- Well.. in that case… *takes popcorn* You have to share. *stuffs some in mouth* -_- Yes Wundy. I help write Sherlock and am a millionaire. *takes more popcorn***

**RosieHudson**

**HappinessIsAWarmSociopath- Yes.. I do have a meat on the bones problem… I must get over my love of brevity… Thank you so much! I am soo happy you like this!**

**shortwinter219**

**And all my followers and favoriters! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!**

**P.S.- It may be awhile till next update… I am writing three other stories… *cringes***

**Rousdower out_**


	4. Chapter 4

Lizzy hadn't actually _seen_ Sherlock since the impromptu barging in of her ap- WHY. Flat. She had, however, certainly been hearing him.

Slam.

"JOHN!"

Lizzy promptly fell off of her couch.

Pulling herself up, she glared balefully at the door. This had been happening all day. ALL. DAY. Various slammings, yellings, screeching of violin-ings, stompings, more yellings. Just a bunch of loud annoying noises.

John, on the other hand, had stopped by earlier that day and apologized in advance for any upcoming annoyances. He really was a sweet man… Lizzy smiled to herself as she went back to unpacking her box. Minus the noise, she had been happy today. Her new apartment- Or flat. She was sick of correcting herself- was finally pulling together and looking like a real home.

Her head snapped up when there was a knock at the door. Before she was even out of her cross-legged position, it popped open and there was Sherlock, standing there, staring down his nose at her.

"That's rude," Lizzy snapped at him.

"What is?" Sherlock really did look confused. "I knocked. John said to knock…"

Lizzy stared at him. Did he really not get it?

Sherlock shrugged and continued on. "I am in need of milk."

"And?" Lizzy guessed he was probably hinting that he wanted hers, but in a fit of childishness, she decided to make him ask.

"And, you have some, so I want it."

Lizzy was floating in a state of disbelief. It was painfully obvious that this man had problems, so much so, that she was quite flabbergasted.

"You.. do know you are supposed to ask, right? You know, with a 'please' and stuff?" she said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So I've been told…" he muttered, before taking a breath and saying quickly- "I would like your milk please."

Lizzy rubbed her forehead. That wasn't exactly a question, or polite, but she'd let it slide. "Fine."

"Excellent!" And he strode right into her kitchen.

"E-excuse me! No! Bad Sherlock!"

Sherlock turned around and stared at her disbelievingly.

"Uh.. heheh.. sorry," Lizzy muttered, looking away awkwardly. Luckily, Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and turned away, flinging her refrigerator open dramatically and withdrawing the milk. Lizzy held back a groan as she rubbed her temples.

Sherlock began to exit the flat, jug of milk in hand, and Lizzy decided to not even say anything about returning it. From what she could tell, she'd probably never see it again.

Her door slammed and she groaned, not able to decide if she was extremely annoyed, or highly amused.

A muffled cry of "John!" reached her ears and she was washed over by a wave of pity for Sherlock's poor flat mate. Picking up her coffee mug from the floor, she went into the kitchen and filled it up. She'd certainly be needing it, if she intended to finish the living room up.

Opening the fridge she stared at where the milk was.

Or, used to be.

Sighing, she picked her mug up and said to it, "He is proving to be a problem, no?"

Her door banged open and she dropped the mug, which shattered into delightful little shards.

"Have you seen John?" Sherlock asked stoically.

"Uh… Nope." Lizzy looked at him, feeling very baffled.

Sherlock muttered something under his breath.

"Have you seen a skull anywhere?'

"A _what_?"

Sherlock muttered again.

Lizzy shook her head and went in search of her broom. When she returned, she peered into her living room, and there was no Sherlock to be found.

"What was that?" she asked the broom.

The broom had nothing to say, Sherlock however, piped up from around the corner- "Have you been kidnapped recently?"

That really threw Lizzy off-track. "Huh?"

"I'll take that as a no."

Sherlock elbowed past her, skirted around the broken glass, and began nosing around her cupboards.

"Uh, what are you doing here? Exactly?" Lizzy asked

Sherlock huffed. "I finished my case. It was boring."

"Uh… that doesn't really… answer my question."

Sherlock whirled around.

"You are an exceedingly boring person."

Lizzy raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Sherlock seemed to be eying her up and down. Not in a perverted way, but like she was some extremely dull cup, not worth his time.

"Your full name is Elizabeth Julia Naevee. You are twenty-six years old. You had a boring, stereotypical childhood full of white picket fences and picnics. You made the decision to move because you were feeling restless and tired of your small town. You didn't come straight here from Washington, you spent several months in Florida first, probably visiting friends or family, of which you have few. You don't like to be reminded of your college years and you absolutely detest your uncle. You like dogs and cats both, but prefer guinea pigs for some strange reason. You have a fondness for action films, but nothing too gory, and you have a strict aversion to romantic films. You like to read, preferentially the classics, but occasionally a well-written science-fiction novel. This morning you spilled your coffee while making it, nothing new, this happens almost every morning, which is why you don't change until you've finished drinking it. You haven't done anything but unpack, you don't plan on sightseeing until that task is complete, and when you _do_ start going around, you plan on going to the London Eye first. As I said. Boring."

Sherlock stepped over the broken glass and went into her living room, flopping onto the couch.

Lizzy stared at him, her mouth wide open.

"What was that?"

"It's called deducing," Sherlock drawled.

Lizzy was silent for a bit.

"Well that's dumb."

Sherlock sat straight up.

"_What?" _The look on his face was absolutely priceless.

"What's the use of it?" Lizzy shrugged. "You seemed to just enjoy flapping your intellectual superiority in my face, just to tell me a bunch of things I already know." She waved her her hands slightly.

"I use it to solve cases…" Sherlock said slowly, looking at her like she was the biggest idiot in the history of the earth.

"So you're a detective?"

"Consulting."

"Huh?"

"Consulting detective. Only one in the world," Sherlock sniffed.

"Ohhhhh…" Lizzy nodded. "I still don't think much of your deducing. And I won't until I see it actually being useful. As of right now… I think you're a pompous git." She shook her head sadly.

Sherlock was staring at her, looking slightly outraged.

Lizzy stared back, one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip.

There was silence.

"Shoo."

Sherlock looked even more outraged. "Excuse me?"

Lizzy waved her hands at him, like he was a pesky fly (and that's exactly how she was viewing him). "Shoo!"

Sherlock's face was blank.

"Go on. Go to your man-cave and do whatever it is you do to amuse yourself. I have things to do and you're irritating me." She flapped her hands again.

Sherlock slowly stood up, eyeing her like she was suddenly going to pounce and rip his throat out.

"Shoo!" Lizzy glared at him.

He backed out of her door, and kept his eyes on her for as long as possible as he closed it, which Lizzy tried to pretend wasn't unnerving in the slightest.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she began sweeping up the glass, and muttered to the shards, "He's got problems."

**A/N: Ok, so hey yeah I'm updating *.* Woot!**

**I feel kinda iffy about this chapter but whatevs. Hopefully it will get more interesting next chapter! :) **

**I still feel really weird about this chapter… *sigh* What do you guys think of Lizzy so far? I am thinking she's meh. Of course I think a lot of things are meh right now, so I have no right to say anything.. OH wait yes I do I wrote this… *facepalm* I'm trying to make her kinda clueless, yet sassy… but not totally stupid? Is it working? Or am I failing… ._.**

**Thaaaaaank you toooooo-**

**shortwinters219- Yay! Thanks for the review!**

**Wunderkind4006- :) *forcibly extracts popcorn and eats at inhuman rate* Yeaaaaah well, I thought to myself, "What would Sherlock do?" and that came up and I thought, "… Yup." I do feel kind of bad for doing that to her but *shrug* YO. *pitches bucket at Wundy's back***

**Guest- Thanks! I am too LOL**

**Qeani- Why, hello there! I hope you like this newest chapter *twiddles thumbs***

**Guest- Thanks!**

**FriendlyReader- Maybe… **

**FiliandKiliGirl- Thaaaaank you! That makes me so happy ^_^ I'm glad you like Lizzy and don't think Sherlock is OOC (I hate OOC Sherlock, so I try really hard not to make him that myself…)**

**Nimrodel626- That's how I started out too… I am flattered! Thank you so much! I shall keep it in Lizzy's point of view, unless I need to switch briefly… Thanks again!**

**RoxanneRay- Thank you so much! Yeah, I had fun writing those parts LOL I knooooow, and you have no idea how relieved I am that you guys seem to think he's IC… Phew.**

**So, until next time peeps!**

**Read.**

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**Rousdower out_**


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock and John had been out for most of the day, which was a blessing. The constant pacing and muttering and shouting and all in all loud, irritating noises, had been grinding on Lizzie's nerves for nigh a day and a half. Early this morning, the door of the flat had slammed and there had been utter, sacred silence.

The first thing Lizzie had done was take a nice relaxing bath. She decided she might stay in and bake, but then realized that, alas, Sherlock had taken her milk. She smirked to herself as she recalled the very satisfying look on Sherlock's face as she told him to 'shoo'.

"Priceless," she snickered at the door jam.

Deciding she might as well go get some more milk, Lizzie grabbed her coat and her purse. Locking the door behind her with her habitual, "If you open, under any circumstances than a key, I will kill you. Kill you _dead."_ Lizzie walked out in to the lovely, London…

Rain.

Lizzie scowled. Rain was not her favorite thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Yanking the hood up over her head, Lizzie stomped down the street, grumbling about several different things, two of which were rain and milk. Then it became three once the milk reminded her of Sherlock.

Entering the shop, Lizzie stomped angrily down the dairy section and yanked a carton of milk off the fridge. Stomping back towards the cash register, she slammed it down in front of the spacey looking clerk, who seemed to draw enough energy up (barely) and five her a price. Lizzie slapped the money down and snatched the carton of milk.

Rain always ruined her good mood…

She walked out of the shop and promptly got plowed over.

"Hey!" She struggled to her feet. "Watch where you're going! Are you st- _Sherlock?"_

The retreating figure froze and turned around. "Miss Naevee." Sherlock nodded stiffly.

"Wh-"

"Obviously I'm working. Now, if you don't mind, I have many important things to do, other than stand here and talk aimlessly," Sherlock snapped.

"Ouch," Lizzie muttered, turning away.

By then, it had stopped raining, luckily for the pedestrians. Because if it hadn't Lizzie probably would have murdered one of them. It actually turned rather decent, so Lizze decided she might as well make the best of it. Dropping her newly acquired and soon-to-be-coveted-so-Sherlock-dosen't-take-it-again milk off at her flat (as you can see see she finally got the two sorted out), Lizzie stepped out for her very first bout of sightseeing.

Sadly, she didn't get to see any sights…

Fifteen minutes into her walk, there was a small crowd. Lizzie scowled and almost turned around to walk back, but unfortunately, curiosity got the best of her. Moving forward, Lizzie strained to peer over shoulders. While she wasn't short, she wasn't exactly tall either, and most of the onlookers were tall. Finally, she got somewhere near the front, and managed to get a glimpse of what was going on.

Or, more specifically, what wasn't going on.

There on the ground, was a very dead person.

Really, there was no way they _could_ be alive, due to the lack of a head. The head was nowhere in sight. Lizzie wrinkled her nose and felt more than a little sick to her stomach. Her luck seemed to have crawled into a dark hole somewhere in Antarctica and died. But at the same time, she understood why people stopped and stared. Some sights are so horrible that you honestly can't tear yourself away.

Police cars pulled up with wailing sirens and soon her and her fellow gawkers were being shoved unceremoniously away from the horrible sight.

"Come on, come on, move it people," said a very ugly rodent-like man with greasy hair, a squint, and a voice that sounded like he had a cup stuck to his mouth. Even if he was off-putting, Lizzie obediently backed away. She actually went to leave altogether when her luck combusted as it lay dead in the hole in Antarctica.

"Miss Naevee, fancy meeting you here," Sherlock said blandly. Strangely, there was, like earlier, now that she thought of it, no John to be seen.

"Uh, Sherlock… Hi," Lizzie said awkwardly.

Sherlock ignored her and moved by, ducking under the newly taped police tape. Lizzie shrugged and walked away, vainly attempting to erase the bloody headless body from her head.

"Where are you going?" It was Sherlock again. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"Somewhere that _doesn't_ contain a bloody headless body, thank you very much," she snarked.

"Since John isn't here, you can assist me." Sherlock continued walking away.

"Excuse me?" Lizzie gawked at his back.

No.

No, she wasn't going to help the idiot with anything.

"Have a nice day!" she called after Sherlock's retreating back.

Turning, she walked back to her flat, still replaying the sight of her first dead body.

oOo

"You left."

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I did."

"Why did you leave?" Sherlock asked, looking honestly confused.

"I would have thought, with your dewhatsit skills, that I don't appreciate being ordered around." Lizzie crossed her arms and gave him stern look.

"Deduction," Sherlock corrected.

"Whatever." Lizzie went to shut the door. "Now, if you don't mind, I have ice cream and turtle documentaries to watch. Have a nice night."

"Wait, don't you even care who the killer is?" Sherlock look positively baffled now.

Lizzie pretended to think for a moment. "Mmmm. Not really… I just want them in jail. Or dead… Preferably dead… But I don't want to know who did it. I just want to erase what I saw with ice cream and turtles."

Sherlock stared at her.

Lizzie stared back and slowly shut the door while keeping eye contact with the tall 'consulting' detective. When it was closed, she picked up her ice cream and made her way to the couch.

"He's so weird."

**A/N:**

**Hey guys! So yeah… it's finally moved forward, and I suggest you be excited for the next chapter! BECAUSE SOMETHING ACTUALLY HAPPENS *GASP***

**Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! They make me very happy! I might actually have the next chapter out tonight, so keep an eyeball open people… No promised though *facepalm***

**Many thanks to-**

**Nimrodel626- LOL really? BAHAHHAAH that's hilarious… I haven't seen the Imitation Game yet, though I want to… *looks interested* Oh you did! YAY. Don't worry, I shall not give any spoilers *zips lips* Wonderful! You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that Sherlock is in character :3 LOL did you ****_do_**** that, or did you just see that somewhere XD BECAUSE THAT IS AWESOME. THAT IS SOMETHING I WOULD DO… ^_^ Agoreg vae, mellon!**

**Littlebirdd- YAY!**

**Queensusie- *continues to kill with humor***

**TotalSebbyFangirl- Thank you!**

**lolitazilla- LOL me too… she is kinda chill… LOL maybe! What? Hey OW! NO WACKY. *rubs head* *hands lung instruction manual* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS ^_^ **

**CharitinaX- Yeah.. I tend to be a very humor centric writer for some reason.. Yeasssss I know… It is moving slowly, but never fear! Stuff happens in the next chapter! And as of right now, she doesn't really have a profession per se… I shall explain later in the story! Thanks for the review! **

**Wunderkind4006- Sherlock: *pouts* Lizzie: *eyeroll* LOL yeah… he was too surprised to do anything other than listen… thanks for the review!**

**Nina- He actualizado ! Nunca abandonaré mis lectores ! Estoy utilizando Google Translate, así que esto puede sonar extraño LOL ¡Gracias!**

**Littlebowkatie- That's good! I shall, don't worry ^_^ Thanks for the review!**

**And of course thank you to all my followers and favoriters!**

**Rousdower out_**


	6. Chapter 6

Lizzy was currently engaged in an act that most normal human beings engage in. Namely, sleeping.

What managed to wake her was a rather loud bang.

Needless to say, she was rather irritated.

Of course, her first thought was- _OH MY GOD IT'S A MURDERER._

And then she attempted to think a little more logically whilst groping for the machete she had hid under her bed. Was it a car backfiring? Maybe… Was it actually a murderer? Maybe…

Was it Sherlock?

Probably.

Perhaps you are wondering why she has a machete? Well, Lizzy had a fondness for antiques and when she saw the small shop squished in between two large apartment buildings as she wandered around London, she wasn't able to resist wandering in. She saw the machete leaning against a rickety shelf in the back and thought it would be a good thing to have in case somebody decided to sneak into her house in the middle of the night (not that she thought that would actually happen…but then again… ).

As she struggled to unsheathe the machete, she attempted to equally concentrate on waking up, not cutting her arm off, and puzzling over what the loud, irritating noise was, but she managed to get it halfway out of the sheathe while stumbling towards the door of her bedroom. Flinging the door open, she stared around her dark living room suspiciously.

She wasn't positive whether the noise had come from _her_ apartment, or Sherlock's, or some other part of the building, but knew that she should probably find out. It's not like she could just hide under her covers and pretend whatever made the noise wasn't there, that would be cowardly! God forbid she ever be accused of cowardice… Creeping further into the living room, machete in hand and thoughts of headless bodies in mind, Lizzy peered around every corner while switching on every single light in the flat. She looked in the pantry and the coat closet for good measure.

After ascertaining that there were no creepy people or consulting detectives in her flat, Lizzy inched open the front door and cautiously peered out. Seeing nothing on the stairs, she began walking up them as quietly as she possibly could, yet, despite her extreme caution, she still somehow managed to step on one of the _only_ squeaky stairs in the building. She froze and listened. Nothing.

Creeping forward again, she raised the machete into a somewhat defensive position and peered around the corner, only to be yanked around it forcibly by the collar of her Star Wars pajamas. She was too surprised to scream, but she did squeak a little and feebly attempt to stab her assailant with the machete. Of course, this didn't work out, and whoever it was did a very painful thing to her wrist, causing her to drop the sharp implement.

"Miss Naevee. I suggest you actually make an attempt to defend yourself next time."

"Wh- _Sherlock!_" Lizzy had the strong urge to pick up the machete and either impale Sherlock or herself with it. "I thought there was a murderer in here or something!" she whisper-yelled.

She had been expecting something along the lines of a scoff and a condescending look, but instead she heard; "There was, but he appears to be gone now."

Lizzy's mouth dropped open. "Wait… wh- Huh?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I _said_, there _was_ a murderer here, but he's gone now. Come with me."

Lizzy lamely allowed him to drag her up to his flat. She snapped out of her stupor when she saw the disaster that was his home.

"W-what happened here? Did he try to kill you?" Lizzy asked, eyes wide as she viewed the books strewed about and the papers fluttering about the floor.

"What? No!" Sherlock scoffed, "He wasn't even in here. I think he may have been attempting to infiltrate _your_ flat, but he bumped into the side table in the hall. _Idiot_."

Lizzy marveled at the mess made by just two men. Actually, after a moment of contemplation, she realized that it was probably solely Sherlock responsible for the mess…

"Poor John…"

"What was that?" Sherlock turned to her.

"Erm- nothing…" Lizzy laughed nervously, deciding to change the subject. "So.. why am I in here?"

"John's gone to whatshername's for the weekend."

"Uh… ok, that doesn't answer my question… I mean, I'm kinda tired, and if the murderer's gone, then it should be okay to sleep? Right?" Lizzy muttered.

"Firstly, I need you here so that someone is _listening. _Mrs. Hudson stole my skull again. Seco-"

"Your what?"

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "I'll introduce you later. Stop interrupting. Secondly, the murderer came back, and the fact that it took the entire side table to falling over to wake you up, he'd probably successfully kill you."

"You mean he made more noise than just knocking over the table?"

"_Side table_. And yes. He practically threw the door open."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. You could probably hear a mouse breath from a mile away if you tried hard enough, Sherlock." She trudged over to the couch in the middle of the room and started dumping papers onto the floor. She noticed a violin balanced on top of a leather chair to her right and resisted the urge to pet it.

Sherlock stared at her like she had two heads. "No I couldn't… that's impossible. The human's range of hearing only exte-"

"Why do you need someone to listen to you?" Lizzy yawned, plopping onto the couch she had cleared and lying down.

"Ah, yes!" Sherlock brightened considerably. "As I told you previously, I solve any cases that the police are to incompetent to figure out on their own…"

Lizzy hummed, feeling her eyelids drooping.

"Over the past two days, bodies have been turning up with missing heads… as you saw yesterday. The slightly unusual part is the cause of death… the decapitations. Usually killers stab or shoot their victims first, and the beheading is a post-mortem event. However, this one kidnaps his victims first. He knocks them out with chloroform and ties them up… He waits for them to wake up before he kills them." Sherlock paused for a moment.

"How do you know they are knocked out?" Lizzy slurred, her half-asleep brain _barely_ forming the question.

"I can smell the chloroform on their collars," Sherlock sneered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, how do you know he waits till they wake up to kill them?" Lizzy mumbled sourly.

"The rope burns on their wrists… that couldn't have happened while they were unconscious, so they must have been awake to do it."

"Obviously," Lizzy muttered sarcastically. Sherlock said something else that Lizzy didn't quite catch, since she said a not-very-nice phrase in her head and went to sleep.

She'd deal with consulting detectives and stray executioners tomorrow…

**A/N: Hello hello!**

**Here is a new chapter for you, I hope it's picking up a bit more?**

**To anyone who reads my other stories- I'm not dead, sorry for the leave of absence, I've been lazy! Horse show season has started, and I have chronic daily headaches.. so yeah.**

**Thank you to-**

**Guest at 221B- Why thank you! I'm glad you think Lizzy is realistic… I try to make all my OC's that way ^.^ Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you liked any of my other stories you read :D**

**lolitazilla- LOL yessss… She loves talking to her inanimate objects… Aren't they such good listeners ;3 I hope you liked this chapter.. *eyes potholder warily* Thanks! :3**

**Littlebirdd- They're so cute ^.^**

**Nimrodel626- Ohhhh I saw the Imitation Game now… It's actually pretty good, despite a few things… That and I like computers so it's my kinda movie… :3 Oh yes I see stuff like that on Pinterest all the time… Heheheh.. poor Sherlockians… Eh? Uhhhh Ok I have no idea why I said 'You did well' In Sindarin… O_o Ok I must not have been paying attention to my brain… *sigh* I meaaaant- Le fael! (thank you) *wacks self in head* **

**Guests 1&amp;2- Thanks guys!**

**bored411- Probably XD Thanks for reviewing! **

**artemisdarkmoon- Oh why thank you so much :3 I'm glad you are liking it so far, I try to make Lizzy and the story as original as possible… Thanks again! **

**and all of my followers and favoriters, you guys rock!**

**Until next time-**

**Rousdower out_**


	7. Chapter 7

"Wake up."

Lizzy opened her eyes and stared blankly at the upside-down face hovering inches from hers. She silently took in the dark curly hair, the aristocratic cheekbones, and last but not least, the creepy eyes.

Only one person.

_Sherlock_.

"NO." Lizzy flopped over onto her stomach and stuck her head under the pillow. "Get out of my _flat_." She made sure to put extra emphasis on the last word.

"Correction. This is _my_ flat and you are on _my _couch using _my_ pillow that I have _generously _allowed you to drool all over." Sherlock yanked the pillow from her hands and stared at it with blatant distaste before throwing it into the unlit fireplace.

Lizzy stared at it in shock. "Sherlock… you know you could just wash it right?"

He sneered at her. "Not effective enough."

Lizzy rolled her eyes at him and dragged herself off the couch and towards the fireplaces.

"What on earth are you doing." Sherlock peered around her as she picked the pillow up from ashes. Lizzy studiously ignored him as she began brushing off the pillow and whispering to it.

"You poor abused baby… I can't believe he was willing to burn you… I would never have done that to my friend…" Lizzy proceeded to hug the pillow and anything else she said was muffled.

Sherlock stood behind her, obviously attempting to wrap his head around what he was witnessing, and looking rather befuddled. His blatant disregard for the feelings of inanimate objects was making Lizzy rather depressed…

"The pillow has feelings too, Sherlock," she reprimanded as she pet said pillow.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and looked the girl up and down. "What are you blathering on about?"

Lizzy gasped and shrieked, "_Kill!"_ before throwing the pillow straight at the tall man's face. Running into the kitchen, she flung the refrigerator door open. Scanning the contents, she made a mental list of what she saw. Milk. Something green. Milk. Jello with something suspended in it. Fingers in a bag. Eggs. Organ in a jar. Eyeball on a piece of buttered bread. And.. more milk?

"Why do you have so much milk?" Lizzy called over her shoulder.

"Do you have any enemies?" Sherlock retorted.

"Elmo. Now answer my question."

"No clue. Who is this 'Elmo'?" Sherlock inquired, sidling into the kitchen as Lizzy popped bread in the toaster.

"Do you have a computer?"

Sherlock sneered at her. "What do you think?"

"Go search, 'Elmo Sesame Street' and you'll find out," Lizzy sniffed, before looking around the kitchen. "Why am I still here?" she asked. Sherlock, however, was gone. Lizzy shrugged and the toast popped up. Grabbing the slightly burnt slices of bread, she walked out of the flat and down towards her own.

"I can't believe I fell asleep," the young woman muttered to the still non responsive wall. "Wait… check that. He was droning on and on, who _wouldn't_ fall asleep?!" Twisting the knob on the stove, Lizzy slammed the kettle onto the flame.

Flinging her refrigerator door open, she froze.

"Miss Naevee, I fail to see how a puppet is-"

"Sherlock."

"-your enemy. Why on earth would you direct me to such a-"

"Sherlock…"

"-horrifying and scarring video, I do not know-"

"Sherlock!" Lizzy turned and the consulting detective took in her tense posture and the slight pallor of her complexion. "Keeping body parts in _your_ fridge is one thing, but do you _honestly_ need to put them in _mine_? And what did I say about coming into my flat? Did you do this to get back to me for drooling on your pillow? because honestly I don't see the need for such a drastic-"

"Miss Naevee, I have done no such thing."

"Then why is there a hand in here?"

Sherlock pursed his lips and moved around next to her, taking in the scene. His eyebrows furrowed and he leant in. The severed limb was obviously very fresh, as the blood had barely congealed. It was in no container or wrap of any kind, just set right in between the apples and the container of leftover meatloaf. Further evidence was the small pool of blood beneath the rack on which the hand was set.

"…Then who put it in here?" Lizzy's voice held a slight quaver as she slowly backed away from the fridge.

"Most likely the intruder last night… Probably came in after you went upstairs."

"The… the m-murderer?"

"No. The Easter bunny," Sherlock muttered. "Yes, the murderer. He seems to be cutting off more than heads now.." he mused, promptly whipping out his phone and walking out of the kitchen.

"Why is he going after me?!" Lizzy was starting to get rather panicky.

"No clue." Sherlock was now on his way out of the front door.

"Wait, Sherlock!" The detective spun around and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Uh.. C-can I come with you?"

"Oh _now_ you want to come?" he taunted.

"No! I really want to stay home and wait for the crazy, head-stealing _murderer_ to come and get me!" she snapped.

Sherlock rolled his eyes in resignation. "Fine."

Lizzy made to follow before suddenly stopping. "Wait."

Sherlock groaned. "What now?"

"I need to get changed." Lizzy sped back into her flat.

Sherlock turned and smacked his forehead against the wall.

oOo

"So... where are we going?" Lizzy asked the stoic detective beside her.

"Scotland Yard."

"Toooooo?" Lizzy leaned closer.

"Talk to Lestrade."

"Who iiiiis-?"

"Shut up."

Lizzy huffed and glared down at the empty seat beside her.

"He's stupid…"

Sherlock gave her a weird look before shaking his head slightly and delving into his mind palace. Lizzy observed the process. It was a very strange sight to behold. First he looked like he was about to pray… then he seemed to go.. dead. The taxi lurched to a stop and Lizzy opened up her door. Sherlock, on the other hand, didn't move an inch.

"Um… Sherlock?"

Receiving no reply, Lizzy poked him. Still no response. Thinking carefully, she leaned forward and put her mouth next to his ear… taking in a deep breath, she prepared herself to holler.

"Ah, we're here!"

Lizzy screamed and lurched backwards, falling back onto the pavement.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" Sherlock stared down at her. "Never mind. We must get moving! Mustn't keep Lestrade waiting." Pulling Lizzy up, he proceeded to drag her towards the precinct.

As they were running up the stairs, a rather attractive (in Lizzy's opinion) man with silver hair, flanked by two officers ran down.

"Sherlock! There you are…" The man paused to take a breath. "I was just about to call you… Another body's been found. Get this… it's missing a hand now too."

"Wonderful!"

Everyone stared at the sickeningly gleeful man who merely stared back at them.

"What are we waiting for?" He clapped his hands together and snatched the hand of the young woman next to him.

Lizzy felt herself get tugged back the way they had just come.

Another body.

And she was going to see it.

Oh _joy_.

**A/N: This is so sub-par *glares up* Anywho. **

**Sorry for the wait guuuuuys *puppy eyes* I was very busy… **

**How was it, honestly? Is the mystery even interesting? I feel like it's booooring… honest feedback is appreciated? *pulls on hair***

**Thank you to- **

**bored411- LOL does it still sound interesting? I feel like this is not a very exciting mystery…**

**ShadowSpade- Haha yeah, she's got quite an attitude XD As you can see, he wasn't too pleased LOL**

**suzaan- Hi! I ****_really_**** hope you see this recent update :) I have not read any Sherlock fics recently, but if I do I'll mention it :D**

**Jayla Fire Gal- THANK YOU! :D I hope you have enjoyed this update.**

**and thank to all my favoriters and followers! The silent readers are important :)**

**There is also a poll on my profile regarding whether or not I should put my story status on the profile itself or not, check it out if you have nothing else to do LOL!**

**Fare thee well!**

**Rousdower out_**


	8. Chapter 8

"We had to remove the body as quickly as possible, for obvious reasons," Lestrade said.

"Hmm.." Sherlock looked around quickly, and not giving Lizzie or Lestrade any time to process it, he swooped around, and returned. "Nothing. The body was merely dumped here, and he was killed somewhere else."

Lizzie thought back to the hand, _still _ in her fridge. Sherlock wouldn't let her bring it with them, claiming, 'Lestrade didn't need to know' and that it would 'come in _handy_'. Lizzie facepalmed, receiving strange looks. Needless to say, she ignored them, too busy resisting the urge to bash the consulting detective over the head.

"Edward Fallten, age 41, cause of death-"

"Thank you, Molly, that's quite enough," Sherlock interrupted the nervous woman. Lizzie eyed her sympathetically. She was small and slightly mousy, but looked like she was a very nice person. Their eyes met and Lizzie waved. Molly waved back with a slightly suspicious smile. Lizzie pointed towards Sherlock, then waved her finger around her ear. Molly stifled a giggle as she turned away.

"Sherlock, really. Be nice," Lestrade reprimanded. He looked over to Lizzie, seeming to just notice her. "And… No offense… but who are you? And where's John?"

Sherlock huffed. "Lestrade, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Lestrade. She's my assistent while John's out of town, let her be," Sherlock snapped.

"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth," Lestrade said, shaking her hand.

"Likewise, um… Detective? I'm actually not sure what to call you," she said. "I just moved here from America a month or so ago."

"You can just call me Greg," Lestrade chuckled. "Where did you live in America?"

"Washington state."

"Oh, wow, you came a long way," Greg said, surprised.

"Can we get on with this?" Sherlock said. He had been observing the pair during the entirety of the conversation, hands in his pockets, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "By the way, how's your wife doing, Lestrade?"

Lestrade glared at the consulting detective and Lizzie rubbed her forehead. "Greg, you can call me Lizzie. Only Sherlock calls me Elizabeth and he's lucky I haven't hurt him for it… Sherlock, why am I here anyw- ugh!" Lizzie stopped mid-sentence, getting very pale as she registered the corpse that Sherlock had just whipped the cover from. He was bent down, observing the neck.

"Have you found a connection between the victims?" Sherlock said, ignoring the very ill looking Lizze making gagging motions behind him.

"No, nothing. It seems to be random acts of violence," Lestrade answered.

"Did you get the pictures?"

"Yes, they're right here." Lestrade held out a folder.

"Elizabeth."

LIzzie edged around the autopsy table, glaring at Sherlock's face the entire way before she reached Lestrade, slowly taking the folder.

"There's nothing much here. The same weapon was used as with the last victims, and the killer seems to be covering his tracks well," Sherlock muttered. "Do you see anything?" He glanced at Lizzie out of the corner of his eye.

"Haha nope, not a thing," Lizzie said sarcastically, looking pointedly away from the body. "Besides the fact that he's obviously missing a head… and a hand." She gagged once more.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Did he have anything on him? Wallet?"

"No. Not a thing. I thought it was rather odd…?" Molly piped up from a corner.

Sherlock seemed to finish examining the stump of the neck. "One good hit was all it took to take the head off…" he muttered. Picking up one of the arms, he examined it, moving on to the other. "Not married, office job… Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork… Boring… Oh look, he had a dog, how _exciting_," Sherlock sneered. "There are the rope burns… he was awake for quite awhile, I see. Molly, can you fetch Mr. Falitens clothes?"

"Please," Lizzie interrupted. Sherlock ignored her and she stuck her tongue out at his back. While he was waiting, Sherlock had started looking through the photos Lestrade had brought. "Hmmm, right on all accounts… He has a brother too… We'll have to… to…" Sherlock stared down at the photo, eyebrows drawing in slowly.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked. Lizzie had crept up behind Sherlock and was staring around his shoulder.

"I don't see anything," she said. Sherlock snapped out of his daze.

"Hmmm? Oh, it's nothing… Nothing…" Sherlock drifted off once more, slowly setting the folder aside. Molly walked in at that moment, bearing the bag containing the deceased's clothing. Sherlock snatched it and grabbed the shirt, all but pressing the collar to his face. "Chloroform… as usual. Boring." Everyone was quiet for a minute or two, as Sherlock looked over the body a few more times.

"Come, Elizabeth," he snapped, striding out of the morgue without another word.

"I'm not a dog!" Lizzie shouted. "I think I'll stay here out of spite," she muttered in the general direction of Lestrade, who seemed slightly shocked at Sherlock's abrupt, non-boasting of the almighty deducing skills, departure.

"With the dead bodies?" Sherlock quipped, his head poked around the door frame. Lizzie balked before muttering an expletive under her breath and a 'Save me, please.' to Molly and Lestrade, who both gave her an apologetic look.

Lizzie attempted to sneak down the stairs to her flat when they returned, but was immediately dragged by the back of her coat up the stairs and into Sherlock's nest (she had decided to dub it a nest, since it wasn't really in a fit state to be called a 'home').

"Sherlock!" she squawked. "I want to eat food and watch TV!"

"You can do that here," Sherlock muttered from the couch, where he was sprawled out.

"No I can't! It's gross here, and I don't even really know you… why did you even drag me to a morgue…" She was silent for a few seconds. "I'm so _confused_!"

Sherlock snorted.

"That's it, I'm out of here." Lizzie exited the premises and all but ran down the stairs into her apar- _ahem_\- flat. She made a beeline for the kitchen and began assembling the mother of all sandwiches. Roast-beef, salami, swiss cheese, white bread, mayonnaise or whatever the British call it, tomatoes and pickles. She lovingly picked up the plate and waltzed into the living room. "You and I will know each-other well, and though it will be short, it will be a wonderful, meaningful relationshi-"

She froze.

"I thought you were upstairs."

"I was."

"You aren't anymore."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I felt like it."

"Who said you could."

"Me."

"You have no say here."

"I'm smarter than you."

"So?!"

"So I can do what I want…"

"Sherlock…"

"Hmm…"

"Have you ever had a sandwich to the face?"

Silence.

"Aren't you even curious how I knew he handled lots of paperwork?"

"A little, but I'd rather ha-" Lizzie was cut off.

"Paper-cuts."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You have thirty-seconds to remove yourself from the premises, or suffer the consequences."

Sherlock remained still as Lizzie counted down in her head. His hands pressed together under his chin, and his eyes staring up at the ceiling, he didn't look like he was even vaguely considering removing his person from the couch.

Lizzie sighed pathetically and looked down at her sandwich. "I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other better…" she whispered, as she picked up the poor food, took a bite, and walked over to Sherlock. He glanced at her, once she had appeared in his line of vision, and didn't even have time to blink. He shot up from the couch, furiously attempting to get the mayonnaise and various bits of food off of his face. He turned and gave the sniggering Lizzie a contemptuous glare, before marching indignantly out and up to his own abode.

Lizze decided that the sacrifice of the beloved sandwich was definitely worth it. Hopefully Sherlock took the hint.

**A/N: It has been AGES since i updated! I finally worked out what I am going to do with the middle of the story, so hopefully I will update a bit more frequently (haha). So two things! Number One!: HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL IN AMERICA WITH ME! YAY! AND TO EVERYONE ELSE, HAPPY NORMAL DAY! unless you have a holiday.. in which case… never…mind… meh. **

**Number two! If you guys see any plot inconsistencies at all, let me know! I found one a while back and fixed it (it was chloroform related). It would be greatly appreciated!**

**Now onto the thank you's before I pass out from exhaustion! **

**bored411- LOL *wink wink* Who knows? YOU SHALL HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE! **

**WundytheCapybara- Of course it is Wundy… But methinks Sherlock doesn't even know that it is yet XD hehehe I can see him 'But I don't like her? She ignores me?'**

**ShadowSpade- heehee… she does! Just a little ;)**

**suzaan- no problem! Hope you see this chapter too LOL! Glad to make you happy :D**

** .54- THANK YOUUUU! 3**

**Wolf- I shall! Thanks!**

**FiliandKiliGirl- LOL! Yes she does indeed… and that poor pillow D: But wait till she gets a hand on Cromwell (I'm guessing that's the skull), they'll have a blast! XD Poor Sherlock won't know what hit him…**

**Courtney-Tamara- Thank you! ^_^ I'm glad you are enjoying this!**

**KiyaNamiel- YOU. HAVE. MORE. NOW.**

**TwilinOfTheWIllows- Here is an update! LOL Fish sticks *drool* ANYWAYS. Nah that's not creepy.. I mean I have ****_so many adoring fans *_****LIe* ha ha what I'm serious o_o. btw I love your name ^_^**

**Ok guys! Sleep now! Thanksgiving in three minutes O_o**

**Seeeeee yaaaaaa!**

**Overlord Rousdower out_**


	9. Chapter 9

"Sherlock, I don't wanna look for clues," Lizzie whined, hanging onto the bannister as Sherlock attempted to tug her out the door.

"Aren't you even remotely interested into who broke into the building and left a hand in your fridge?" Sherlock huffed, refusing to release her sleeve. They proceeded to engage in a stare-down, and Lizzy was slowly getting more and more frustrated.

"Um… What's going on?"

Both Sherlock's and LIzzie's heads whipped towards the door, staring accusingly at a very bewildered John Watson.

"Am I interrupting something?" John asked warily.

"Thank God, John! Make Sherlock leave me alone!" Lizzie plead.

"Sherlock, let the poor girl go. What's gotten into you?" John ordered, already looking exasperated.

"There was a break-in while you were away. The murderer was in the premises and left a hand in Ms. Naevee's fridge," Sherlock explained airily. "I was merely attempting to investigate."

"And why were you trying to drag poor Lizzie out the door?"

Sherlock snorted. "Poor Lizzie?"

John rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Sherlock," he muttered exasperatedly.

"I merely… needed an assistant…" Sherlock muttered.

"Well, I'm back, so you can let her go now." John shook his head and picked up his bag, marching by the pair and up the stairs.

Lizzy and Sherlock eyed each other suspiciously.

"You heard him, let me go," Lizzie said smugly.

"John's not the boss of me," Sherlock said petulantly.

"Okay, let me go or I'll hurt you," Lizzie said sweetly, smiling innocently up at the consulting detective.

Sherlock reluctantly released her, and Lizzie could practically feel his glare as she marched down the steps to her flat.

"Honestly, he's such a baby," she muttered to the doorknob.

oOo

"I honestly don't know how you put up with him. I feel bad for you… Ohhh you should come live with me… He'll probably think Mrs. Hudson hid you again…" Lizze paused and sniggered down at the skull in her hands. "You're my new best friend!"

"Sherlock might kill you if he sees you with that… he's been searching for it for days," John said from her couch. He had taken refuge there about an hour previous, when Sherlock had gone on full rampage mode.

Lizzie shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll kill him first." John sniggered.

"JOHN, MY THEORY IS CORRECT!" Lizzie's flat door flew open and Sherlock appeared, looking very excited.

"The killer is targeting people I have come into contact with! Lestrade's just been attacked and we can-"

"Hold on, _Lestrade's been attacked_?" John yelped, leaping up from the couch. "Is-"

"Oh, he's fine, probably a bit of a cut, but I'm pretty sure he's alive," Sherlock said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Pretty sure?" John hissed, flapping his arms about.

"Mostly positive! That's not what matters! What I'm trying to say, is that you're most likely the next target," Sherlock babbled, now attempting to drag John out the door.

"I'm not going anywhere till you explain yourself,"" John growled. yanking his arm out of Sherlock's grasp.

"Yeah!" Lizzie piped up from her chair.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that my skull?"

Lizzie stuck out her tongue. "He's living with me now."

"Sherlock!"

"Alright, alright," Sherlock snapped. "A few days ago, when Miss Naevee and myself were at the morgue, I thought I recognized the face of the victim. I looked at the pictures of the previous faces, and once again they looked familiar. It turns out I was correct, the first victims were merely people I had bumped into on the street. The one Miss Naevee and I examined I had spoken words with, as he had been under the impression I shoved him. or some nonsense like that… The killer has made an unusually large jump in victims though, having attacked Lestrade. This is leading me to believe he has an end goal or victim to reach, and is either running out of time or getting bored… Normally I would assume Miss Naevee to be the next victim, but from this jump I'm guessing he'll probably go after you next. Are you happy now?"

John rolled his eyes.

"Um… I'm not?!" Lizzie squeaked.

Sherlock sighed. "I'm sure you'll be fine, didin't you hear me? He's probably going to go after John next. Now we need to go question Lestrade. He might have seen something useful for once."

"What if you're _wrong_? Can't I come with you?" Lizzie asked, her eyes wide and face pale.

"No, you can't. Three's a crowed. You have a machete, do you not?" Sherlock smirked. "Use it."

oOo

"Don't lose your head, don't lose your head… figuratively or literally, don't lose your head," Lizzie muttered to herself, clutching onto her machete and hunching over on her couch. "This isn't helping… I can't believe that idiot actually _left_ me here…"

"I'll bet. How 'bout you come with me instead?"

Everything went black.

**A/N: I know I know… short chapter D: Guys, tell me honestly, is the mystery interesting at all…. really? Is Sherlock in character? Is John? Is it ****_interesting?_**** How many of you have stopped reading at this point because it's predictable (I feel like it's moving too fast almost and is rather boring…) Before you guys start saying- "BUT SHERLOCK WOULD HAVE KNOWN SHE WAS NEXT" just wait… patience…**

**I'm really gonna try and finish this fic quicker XD partly because it's a little neglected, partly because I really want to write a Supernatural fic, but I'm in the middle of too much stuff heheh…**

**Anyways... Christmas is almost upon us! Who's excited! XD I'm hoping to get some money to put towards a shiny new 3DS XL ;)**

**Thank you to;**

**KiyaNamiel- XD I'm glad you like her… Wait… O_o I didn't even realize those were stereotypical traits… That was part of her character lol… Partly because I love food too death so I thought 'She can love food too' LOL a lot of people probably would XD Happy late Thanksgiving/early Merry Christmas! **

**TwilinOfTheWIllows- Heheheheh XD **

**BeamMeUpScotty25- MUAHAHHAHAHA! Thank you :3**

**bored411- Sherlock will definitely have his revenge (probably once he's gotten out of 'triple homicide' mode)**

**ShadowSpade- True dat.**

**Guest- 4**

**Noxy the Proxy- No he did, he just… ahem… kept it to himself… for science XD **

**Guest 2- XD**

**Tai-Ookami- Here. Is. More.**

**Tracy137- MUAHAHHAHAHA YOU CAUGHT ME. THAT'S THE BEST STORY I'VE HEARD ALL MONTH HEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHE…Great Fish Finger Fire… heheheheheh… *rolls around chortling* Thank you~~ EHEHEHEHEH…**

**and all my followers and favoriters!**

**oK GUYS SORRY FOR THE LONG NOTE AND THE LAME CHAPTER. PLEASE. CRITICISM. BRING IT.**

**Overlord Rousdower out_**


	10. Chapter 10

"I couldn't really see… he was kind of tall… but not really. Medium sized fellow. It was too dark to see his face. He jumped me on the way to my car, got me around the neck and when he couldn't stuff the chloroform in my face, he pulled a knife and tried to finish the job right there." Lestrade paused and dragged a hand down his face. "I elbowed him in the gut and grabbed my gun, but the bastard managed to roll between the cars and make a run for it."

Lestrade wheezed loudly, touching his throat gingerly. He was sat in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped round his throat, and a very annoyed expression on his face. "Where's Lizzy?" he asked, before Sherlock could open his mouth.

"Oh, at her flat. I've discovered that the killer is going after people I've come into contact with recently… though it's accelerated rather drastically. I was hoping Anderson might've been next…" Sherlock drifted off.

"Wait…" John had been mostly silent up until now. "You're saying we left Lizzy-"

"Really John? You're just getting that now? I was wondering why you hadn't objected earlier!" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You left her, alone, at her apartment, _with a killer on the loose?_" the Detective Inspector furiously wheezed.

Sherlock sighed, turning on his heel and walking towards the door. "Yes, Lestrade. Don't worry, I have everything under control. Do let me know if you remember anything," he called over his shoulder as he shouldered through the door and ignoring the hospitalized man's furious huffings.

John's face was getting progressively redder. "_Under control_?" he seethed, trailing closely behind the Detective.

"You know, I still can't believe you didn't realizing what I was doing until just now," Sherlock glanced quizzically at John out of the corner of his eye.

"I was preoccupied!"

"What on earth could have preoccupied you enough to muffle you're overly-caring heart?"

John spluttered. "Oh, I don't know! Maybe the fact that Lestrade was hospitalized and that I was '_probably next'?"_ The pushed out the hospitals doors, making a beeline for the road.

"Oh… don't worry, you're not next." Sherlock took out his phone and started to tap away, signaling for John to hail a cab.

"Well who is?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and stared at him pointedly. John's mouth dropped open.

"You're joking."

"I don't _joke_, John," Sherlock sneered.

"We left her alone, she's going to _die_."

"Oh, don't be silly. We have plenty of time," the detective muttered, sliding into the cab.

oOo

Sherlock hopped out of the cab, sliding his phone away and jogging towards the front door of his flat. One of his 'connections', a teenage boy holding onto a collection can and leaning against the wall just a few feet away, subtly shook his head at the detective's inquiring look.

He heaved a disappointed sigh, pushing the black door open and making a beeline for 221C, John following close behind, silently steaming.

"Sherlock, I swear to God if anything's happened to her-"

"She's absolutely fine, John. Look-" he pushed her door open, not bothering to knock as he gave his friend an exasperated look. The doctor promptly went white as a sheet, gesturing limply past the detective.

"Oh, you call that fine then?"

Sherlock whirled around, examining the disaster behind him with wide eyes. A lamp, shattered on the floor. Obvious signs of struggle. Lizzie's beloved machete was lying in front of the coffee table. Smear of blood on the side of the fireplace, mostly likely from someone hitting their head… This wasn't supposed to happen…

"Oh god, oh _god_…" John's voice was faint. "Sherlock, we _have_ to find her."

The detective remained stock still, staring blankly at the scene before him. "This wasn't supposed to happen… She must still be here.." he muttered, stepping around the wreckage, carefully observing. She _had _to be here. This wasn't supposed to _happen_. At least.. not like _this_.

"Elizabeth?" he called, pushing open the door to her room. Nothing.

Nothing in the bathroom, nothing in the kitchen.

"Sherlock, we have to _find_ her!"

Right. She was gone. He had to find her.

First question, how did the kidnapper get past his 'guard'? The detective did a one-eighty and jogging up the stairs and out the door, straight towards his 'connection'.

"You're _sure_ you didn't see anything?" The black-haired man asked, leaning in close to the teen.

The boy shook his head. "Not a thing, nobody came in or out the entire time Mr. 'olmes."

"How long did it take you to get here?" he pressed.

"Only about ten minutes…"

That must've been what happened then. The.. _killer_ must have been waiting until the very second Sherock left.

Wonderful.

He figured he had about an hour, two at most to find her and _nothing_ to start on. Perhaps... Sherlock took out his phone and dialed Lizzie's number, putting it on speaker and beckoning John over.

One ring.

An impatient, perplexed look from John.

Two rings.

"Well, well Mr. _Holmes_. How _do_ you _do_?"

Ah, there it was.

"I see you've decided to make it a bit more interesting."

"_Interesting_ is one way to describe it. Though… I prefer _personal_."

Male, early forties. Naturally jovial tone, probably has a rather convincing 'trustworthy' facade. No background noise, he must be in a building that's a good distance away from London traffic, perhaps in a basement as well.

"Where is she?" Sherlock hissed into the receiver.

"Now, now. I thought you _liked_ playing games, Sherlock? At least… that's what our _mutual friend _told me."

"_Moriarty_." John closed his eyes, placing a hand over his face.

"Oh, _shhhh_, don't use that name lightly, Mr. Holmes. I hear _he's_ been quite fussy lately."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Who are you?"

"As I said, friend of a friend! He recommended you for first class entertainment- Oh! Look who's come 'round. Say 'hi'!"

"H-hello?" She was alive.

"Lizzie? Are you alright?" John was all but panicking, and Sherlock elbowed him in the side.

"I… I think so," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Okay! Enough chit-chat! You have two hours Sherlock, before it's 'off with her head'. Don't worry, I play fair. I left a little _hint._"

Sherlock ended the call, staring blankly at the phone.

"At least she's not hurt." John's voice was weak.

"She was still groggy, she'd only just woken up. Chances are the pain from her injuries hadn't registered yet. The blood on the fireplace is most likely hers, she probably has a concussion,"

the taller man snapped, running a hand through his hair and turning towards the missing woman's flat.

"We have less than two hours."

"But-"

"I'm not taking any chances. This isn't Moriarty, I don't think he's interested in just the 'game'." The detective dropped to his knees by the fireplace, looking closely at the blood stain. "If he left me a 'hint' he probably knows I'll be there before the allotted time. He wants us to find a dead body."

"Shit." John was bouncing up and down, his hands in his pockets and his face white as death.

"She was on the couch, probably facing the front door. But.. she was attacked from behind. He was already in the flat, probably hiding in a closet. She swung the machete behind her in a panic, hitting the lamp. Tripped over the coffee table- unsurprising considering how clumsy she can be- dropped the machete. Kidnapper lunged at her, pushing her from the path of the door. She hit the fireplace and since there's no chloroform smell, that's probably what knocked her out. None of this is a 'hint' though…" He rose to his feet, making his way towards the bedroom.

"Assuming this is where he was hiding…" The detective slid open her closet door.

"Aha."

There, sitting innocently upon the shoe rack, was a bag of flour.

**A/N: Why hello there… Look who's back after… ten months.**

**Whoops.**

**About a week ago I was thinking about that sad feeling you get when a fic you like hasn't been updated and seems to be abandoned, and I was thinking that probably a few of my readers felt like that and then I felt bad lol. Anyways, I've been rewatching Sherlock, so I got inspired! Unfortunately, I kinda forgot where I was going with this 'case' thing, so now I'm making it up as I go. **

**Some of you may be disappointed in Sherlock's reaction, but I'm trying to keep in in-charcter lol and I don't know if you can tell but he ****_is_**** kinda worried.**

**In terms of next update, I'm hoping sometime this week! We'll be getting back to Lizzie, never fear! **

**Thank you to:**

**bored411- I'm glad you liked it! Sorry I kinda disappeared lol..**

**TwilinOfTheWillows- *snickers* I'll give it to you, you were pretty darn close. As you can see, while Sherlock was planning for her to be there... things kind of… backfired lol.**

**ThievingDuck- ahhh that's good ;-; Yeah, I have a bit of trouble with putting more meat in my stories. I've been trying to work on it lol. I suppose if I were to write the whole fic before I posted it it would end up in better shape, but alas, that is not what I do. And thank you! I rarely ever get advice on my writing so I am grateful :')**

**KiyaNamiel- LOL well i think i just beat my personal record for not updating and idk if this counts as a cliffie or not but there's that. Ahhh, thank you! You do have a point, and I guess as long as this story is interesting it's good enough for now xD **

**Jayla Fire Gal- Ahhhh thank you! and lol, indeed he is :D**

**Wunderkind4006- AHHHH *ducks the blunt object* stop saying nice things and trying to kill me! and also yes, I know the relationship aspect has been lacking, but I've been trying to keep it at least a little realistic. Never fear, the pivotal moment approaches. Also don't you dare bring an affirmation notepad I will literally draw nothing but Elmo burning in hell.**

**SPARKELS77- thank you!**

**Miss Scarlet Darkness- Ahhhh! Thank you! I'm glad you like the characters :D**

**AvengerFrost- Isn't it lol I had a very vivid image of that moment in my head and just had to stick it in. And you were right on both counts, it's kinda both made up and Moriarty xD And yes, his skull friend is like her dream come true.**

**NothingNooneZero- Ahhhh! Thank you :D So sorry I took forever to update it.**

**GuessWho- EHEHEHE**

**RebelRae- even though it's ages later, here's more to read lmao. I'm glad you like it!**

**and to all the new favoriters and followers! You guys rock! **

**Overlord Rousy out_**


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